


Is There Anyone Here Who Hasn't Died?

by Navyblueyoucallmesexy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Case Fic, F/M, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 10, Pretending the darkness isnt happening, Saving People Hunting Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5758387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navyblueyoucallmesexy/pseuds/Navyblueyoucallmesexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers are on the road again, hunting things and generally trying to avoid feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is There Anyone Here Who Hasn't Died?

_“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound_

_That saved a wretch like me._

_I once was lost, but now am found;_

_Was blind, but now I see._

 

_’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,_

_And grace my fears relieved;_

_How precious did that grace appear_

_The hour I first believed.”_

 

“Shut up Sammy.” Dean muttered before Sam’s elbow reached his ribs. 

"What?” Deans large little brother smiled down at him, all big brown eyes and fake innocence.

Dean didn’t even bother replying. Sam took any and every excuse to mock him about Cas and no matter how much Dean tried to ignore it, the sly comments were starting to grate on his nerves. Couldn’t a man have a male best friend that wasn’t related to him? He glared up at his brother before turning his eyes to the priest at the head of the church facing his congregation. It was mostly families, a lot of old people and a few stragglers. They sang together and, with the stone walls and all, it was kind of cultish. To make matters worse they were all really badly out of tune.

_“..Through many dangers, toils and snares,_

_I have already come;_

_'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,_

_And grace will lead me home..”_

Dean decided he hated hymns. Church was just a pathetic excuse for people to pretend they’re good or can be forgiven for the shit they’ve pulled. _Good luck guys_ , Dean thought as he scanned the crowd, _God’s kinda AWOL at the minute._

The remarks never bothered him before. Angels, demons and the like say all kinds of crap to try and get a response, highlights of the past few years being Dean’s daddy issues, his relationship with Sam, his self-hatred and whatever this thing with Cas was. You develop a thick skin when you work with douchebags all the time. When Sam talks about it though, he just manages to crawl under Deans thick defenses.

The singing had finished, _thank god,_ and the church had fallen quiet as the priest gave his sermon. He was the reason the brothers were there, sat in their itchy monkey suits and trying to conceal sarcastic laughter at some of the ridiculous phrases they were spouting. ‘ _Put your trust in God'? Really?_ The dude in the dress and white collar had caused a bit of a local scandal, revealing my secrets and generally throwing shit at the fan. But that wasn’t why the boys had pulled on their Sunday best, no.

They were visiting because supposedly, the priest was receiving all the juicy gossip from an angel.

“I don’t think this is our kind of thing, Dean.” The great lump of a younger brother whispered as the priest began the communion. “Its not like he’s doing anything awful, at most he’s caused a few divorces. Not really angel-like activity.”

Dean shrugged, “I knew it was a long shot, but we were only ‘round the corner. S'not like we’ve gone out of our way.” Sam just nodded a little.

It was quiet for a long time, the odd dreaded hymn every now and then until the final notices. Dean was checking out the heavenly host-looking guys in the stain glass windows, wondering if Cas had a secret halo, when Sam nudged him and pointed at all the people leaving.

Straightening his jacket, he and stood to his freaking giant height. “Come on, we might as well talk to the guy.”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, following Sam as they awkwardly shuffled their way out of their pew. Free of the wooden bench the brothers smiled at each other, a silent _let’s go,_ before they set off in the direction of the priest.

He was young, mid twenties at most which was surprising to Dean for some reason. His dark hair as wet with gel and rosy pink cheeks bloomed on the apples of a sweet smile. “Hello gentlemen, can I help you?” Honestly, it was sickening.

Dean was too caught up in the guys shiny looking hair to answer, so Sam quickly covered. “-Yeah, ah, Mr. Higgins?” He smiled politely, offering his hand.

“Yes, that would be me.” His grin spread wider, _dude’s face is going to split_. Dean thought, watching carefully as he shook Sam’s hand. “How can I be of service?” Dean kept his mouth shut. It was likely that if he opened it, sarcasm would come out. Best to leave it to Sam, who was quickly embodying the character of god-squad-fan-girl, hands gesturing wildly and everything. “We read about your amazing ability online and thought- well it would be a shame not to get a chance to speak to a man who has actual contact with the heavenly guard!” Dean could hear the satire dripping from Sam’s words but clearly the clergyman, Mr. Higgins, did not.

Bashfully the man lowered his head. “Thank you, I consider it a great honor to be blessed by the divine.” All three men nodded their heads and mumbled agreements before an odd silence fell over the group.

Dean was a pretty good judge of character, or species at least, and Mr. Higgins didn’t seem at all supernatural. In fact, he seemed pretty transparent. He was just a guy with a church and the ability to know peoples secrets, but didn’t really care or judge what they were.

Before Mr. Higgins could excuse himself, Dean, having found his voice again, leaned forward, “So how’d you do it?” he smiled. Sam looking down at Dean with a ‘no beating around the bush, hey?’ face and Dean just shrugged again, minutely. He wanted out of this place, sooner the better.

Mr. Higgins looked sufficiently baffled as he shook his head and lifted his shoulders. “Boys, I wish I had something better to tell you, I really do, but I’m fairy clueless. Sometimes I can’t even control it, I-“

“Andrew?” A light voice interrupted from behind the priest, Mr. Higgins' face lighting up at the sound.

He turned a little, the figure behind him becoming visible. Sam and Dean paled as Mr. Higgins spoke, “Fellas, this is my wife, Anna.”

 _Well shit._ Dean thought as the redhead stepped forward in some Stepford Wives' get up and sensible shoes.

Case closed.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiled at the gob smacked Winchesters, unaware of the thoughts zipping around their minds as she turned to her husband. “We need you to come and help with the collection.”

He nodded and offered his hand to the hunters, apologizing, “Very sorry, duty calls.” He smiled before joining his wife and the gathering of old people fretting about a few feet away.

Staring after the couple for a long minute, Dean cleared his throat. “You saw that too, right?”

“Right. Yeah.” Sam said beside him, just as shell shocked as Dean. “Lets.. Get out of here?”

Dean nodded slowly and both brothers left the chapel at a tortoise pace, their eyes trained on the rogue, well, dead, angel until they were outside.

Blinking in the afternoon sunlight, Dean found his thoughts clicking back together. “Anna?” He said incredulously, his face twisting in confusion as he turned to Sam. “What the hell?”

The taller hunter flicked his hair out of his eyes and started walking towards the car. “I don’t know, but something’s not right.”

“No kidding.” Dean mumbled, walking along beside his brother with his eyes glued floor.

The cogs in Sams head were turning loudly and Dean could tell he was about to suggest something he wouldn’t agree with. “Maybe you should call Castiel.” _Predictable as ever Sammy_.

"Cas has better things to do than hang around with us on cases Sam. He’s practically running heaven right now, he doesn’t need anymore problems.” Dean repeated for the umpteenth time. Every freaking case they went on required some kind of supernatural assistance these days. They were hunters goddammit they didn’t need angels and demons on speed dial. Unless it was the big league, the big daddy fights.

As usual, Sam argued back. “The case is about angels, I’m sure he’d want to know what’s happening.“

Dean was done talking about Cas. He thought about him enough already, he didn’t need Sam bringing him up every five seconds. “Enough Sam. If Cas wanted to know, he’d know.” Dean ended the conversation abruptly as they reached the impala. His grumpy voice almost being cut off by the car door slamming behind him.

“You should have contacted me.” A deep grating voice stated from the backseat. Dean jumped so high his head almost cracked the ceiling.

"Jesus Chri- Cas you-“ Dean gasped after his butt returned to the safety of the impalas interior. “Stop fucking doing that.” He scolded, placing his gun back into its holster as Sam hunched over half in, half out of the car laughing his ass off.

Cas looked a little sheepish and he mumbled a quiet, “Sorry.” That was lost in Sam’s noise. “You should feel free to contact me when ever I can be of assistance, Dean.” Dean replied with a sarcastic smile in the rear view mirror and turned the keys in the ignition, forcing Sam to get in the car before he drove away with one of his huge legs.

_When ever he could be of assistance? Cas might as well buy a one way ticket to Winchester._

Sam was still laughing as Dean pulled out of the parking lot, wiping tears on his sleeve as he tried to calm down. “It wasn’t that funny.” Dean complained gruffly, tearing his gaze away from the road to see a huge smile on his brothers face. If he weren’t gripping the steering wheel so tightly, Dean would’ve punched him.

They gave the rundown to Cas, even if Dean was somewhat reluctant. Too-cheerful priest guy spreading secrets in the name of the angels, some real soap opera stuff; affairs, secret fathers, accusing murderers, thefts, the whole shebang. Causing the quaint little town to turn on each other, from arguments to brawls and divorces. Cas listened carefully and nodded when appropriate, his hair shaking with the movement and distracting Dean in the mirror.

When Sam mentioned Anna, Cas frowned, the lines around his eyes becoming more prominent. “Anael is dead.’” Cas said bluntly. Dean sighed quietly and steeled his eyes on the road ahead, ignoring the conversation.

“1978, yeah, but that never stopped us or you.” Sam pointed out. Cas agreed and told them he would look into the case for and check ‘Anna’ out.

Cas disappeared in a flap of wings and they drove on in silence, past the rows of houses with 2.5 kids and further out of town. Dean could feel Sams eyes on him, studying him as the clogs in his head started whirring again. Whatever he had to say, he kept it to himself until they pulled up to the motel and Dean killed the engine.

"Are you moping because of Castiel or Anna?” Sam asked, in that curious and concerned little brother tone of voice that he’d perfected over the years.

Dean climbed out of the impala and walked up towards their room, leaving Sam behind. He wasn’t mad at Sam, just pissed at everything because he was in a sucky mood. He wouldn’t have answered anyway but turns out he couldn’t even if he wanted to, because he didn’t know.


End file.
